Route 777
by wordsofawitheringwriter
Summary: They were just two strangers on the school bus, both a little too reclusive for their own good. But, who knows? Maybe they can bring out the good in one another... one mixtape at a time. Eleanor and Park AU
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: I've had this on my tumblr since last fall, but for whatever reason I never posted it onto here. I didn't even realize until I just went to update it and didn't find it, haha. Well, better late than never, I suppose.**

disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

The old cassette player was the perfect size. It was just small enough to fit in the palm of his hand, but large enough that it didn't get lost in the dark, endless abyss that he called his backpack. Carefully, he set the headphones over his ears and rolled his thumb over the dial to turn up the volume, purposefully blocking out the mindless hum of conversation going on around him.

The bus hit a pothole, causing the kids in the back to holler in glee.

Natsu slumped farther down in his seat and turned the volume up even higher.

A kid two rows in front of him had his window cracked and the crisp morning air was sending chills down Natsu's back. He rubbed at his bare arms, trying in vain to create some friction to diminish the goosebumps.

His old concert tee that was splattered in various colors of paint did little to keep him warm, and the traitorous rips in the knees of his jeans weren't helping either. Natsu was grateful for a total of two seconds when the bus pulled to a slow stop, meaning a momentary break in the wind.

But then the driver opened the door, and Natsu sat up a little straighter.

He was supposed to be the last stop, and the long driveway outside his window definitely did _not_ lead up to the high school….

As he slid his headphones off his ears so that they rested around his neck, he noticed that all conversation had stopped as everyone held their breath.

A new stop could only mean one thing… a new kid.

Fresh meat.

Natsu felt his heart go out to the new student, whoever they might be, as everyone on the bus waited with baited breath. He found himself clenching his fists in his lap as the kid across the aisle from him crumbled up a past homework assignment in his hands, and Natsu felt his blood pressure rising when he heard a few other kids around him doing the same.

The new kid hadn't even shown their face yet.

Natsu gritted his teeth, returning his headphones back to their rightful place–over his ears–and slid his thumb along the dial once again.

They weren't even going to give this kid a chance.

He waited, his eyes never leaving the ball of paper that the blond beside him was ready to chuck the second the new kid decided to show their face. Natsu watched the windup, and he debated whether it was worth it to throw his arm out and catch the blond's hand before he could release–would the front office consider suspension when it was only the first day of school?–when suddenly, his problem solved itself.

The blond lowered his arm.

Natsu figured the new kid must've finally stepped on board, and he watched the blond's face to gauge the rest of the bus's reaction.

No paper balls flew over Natsu's head.

Deciding to test the waters, he lifted one earphone just barely, but there were no snide comments being made or perverted catcalls being shouted.

The silence was eerie… borderline weird.

Natsu had to see for himself.

 _Oh shit_ , his eyes widened and his hand fell from his headphones, snapping the earpiece back into place. _She's gorgeous._

Although, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something a little… _odd_ about her.

She kept her head down as she walked down the aisle, so that Natsu could only see the top of her head where she had piled her long, blonde hair up into a ponytail. Maybe it was just the dim lighting of the bus, but he could swear she had shades of blue standing out amongst the various golden hues.

The girl was wearing an acid-wash denim jacket that looked a little too new, as though the price tag had just been torn off that morning. And her hands… he noted, the closer she got. They were covered in black streaks…

They were covered in ink.

When she was close enough for Natsu to make out the chipped polish on the girl's fingernails, he realized his mistake too late. At first he couldn't figure out why she just kept getting _closer_ to him, when he accidentally kicked his backpack that he'd set on the floor.

He'd left his backpack on the floor, meaning the only open spot left on the bus was right beside him.

Well, _shit_.

The new girl sat down beside Natsu in the seat, leaving six inches between them as he pressed his side as far against the window as he could without being obvious about it. She didn't say anything to him–thankfully–and kept her head down for the rest of the bus ride.

Natsu, with one last glance at the girl from the corner of his eye, turned to the Plexiglass window that was smudged with past fingerprints and slid his thumb along the dial of his cassette player once more.

* * *

It was only the second class of the day, and Natsu could already tell that the first day of his senior year was going as expected.

Complete and utter shit.

When he'd been handed his schedule earlier that morning, he'd gone directly to the front office and asked why Honors English IV was on there. Natsu's grades had never been too worse for wear, but if any class was hemorrhaging his GPA, English would be responsible.

He was competent, okay? The class just wasn't his strong suit.

Natsu was more of a visual person. He enjoyed _art_ , where he could work with his hands and let his thoughts wander while he blasted his music and drowned out his classmates.

It was a totally different environment than English class.

But the secretary had only rolled her eyes at Natsu and told him to go to class, that there was no mistake, and if he was _really_ bothered by it then he could go talk to one of the counselor's at the end of the day.

Which, as Natsu took a seat in the very back of class, he was very close to raising his hand and asking to go speak to a counselor _now_ instead of later when the teacher opened his mouth and announced that first up on the syllabus would be studying Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

No. Thanks.

His hand was halfway in the air when something to his left caught his attention, and _she_ walked in… the girl from the bus.

"Sorry I'm late," she told the teacher, hurrying to the first empty seat she saw, and this time it wasn't anywhere near Natsu. "I had trouble finding the classroom."

Their teacher had waved off her excuse, noting that she was a new student and told her not to worry about the tardy.

However, Natsu decided that the ignored write-up was part of a bigger ploy, as the teacher then bestowed an even _worse_ fate onto the new girl.

"Miss Heartfilia," he said, reading her name from the roster, "why don't you open your book to page 315 and read outloud for the class?"

 _Dick move, sir._ Natsu thought, cringing at the secondhand embarrassment that he knew was coming. He wanted to wave his hands and get the teacher's attention, yell out to the moron that _duh_ , obviously she was shy and she _didn't_ want to read outloud in front of a bunch of strangers.

But, not for the first time that morning, the new girl surprised him. She opened her mouth and began to read:

 _Tyger! Tyger! burning bright  
In the forests of the night,  
What immortal hand or eye  
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?_

 _In what distant deeps or skies_  
 _Burnt the fire of thine eyes?_  
 _On what wings dare he aspire?_  
 _What the hand, dare sieze the fire?_

 _And what shoulder, & what art,_  
 _Could twist the sinews of thy heart?_  
 _And when thy heart began to beat,_  
 _What dread hand? & what dread feet?_

The teacher cut her off there, to which Natsu figured only God knows why. He for one had been encaptured with the girl's voice, a voice that rang louder and clearer than what he would have pictured for the timid girl.

The way she read aloud had left him wanting to hear more, but then the teacher only thanked the girl and began to ask students what they thought the poet meant.

Natsu found that he could give a rat's ass about what the poet meant, he just wanted to hear more of the new girl's voice.

* * *

After english, he didn't see the new girl again. Though, to be fair, he hadn't exactly been looking for her either.

Natsu walked into the cafeteria at lunch time, and as he was patting his pockets for his wallet so he could pick up a bottle of water from the line, he was half-expecting to at least catch a glimpse of the girl amongst the crowd, but he never caught sight of a messy, blonde ponytail.

He saw plenty of jean jackets, but none that looked brand new, and he didn't see any ink-stained hands until he found himself in the art classroom later in the day.

She was nowhere.

But she was on the bus.

Natsu had the strangest sense of deja-vu as once again she was the last one to get on, yet this time the kids kept their gawking to themselves, if at all. The novelty of "the new kid" must've worn off since that morning.

He was busy keeping his head down and tuning his Walkman's volume when, not for the first time that day, she surprised him by sitting down beside him. Natsu shifted uncomfortably on the vinyl seat, having figured that she would've made at least one friend over the course of the day so she wouldn't have to sit beside him.

It was okay though, surprisingly, because she didn't seem interested in speaking. She was busy playing with the rings on her fingers, so Natsu turned up the dial even more and turned to look out the window, allowing his eyes to relax as the scenery whipped by.

Since she was the last stop on the morning route, it also meant that she would be the first dropped off in the afternoon. It wasn't long until the bus was pulling to a slow stop at the foot of her long, winding driveway where the house was hidden by rows of trees.

Keeping his head facing the window, he watched from the corner of his eye as she gathered her things.

She stood up and slipped her bag over her shoulders before stepping into the aisle, and as if on second thought, turned back around and in the reflection of the window where she knew he would see her, she mouthed, "I'm Lucy."

She had taken into account his headphones, and without waiting for a reply–would he have replied?–she turned around and left him there.

His eyes trailed her as she walked down the aisle of kids, stepped off the bus, and was gone.

* * *

 **until next time...**


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: I'm currently on the road but still trying my best to update what I can. Happy reading!**

disclaimer: I own nothing

* * *

He didn't think about the new girl at all that night, but he was surprised when he looked down at his sketchbook and charcoal-stained hands to see a shy, smiling figure looking up at him.

Natsu didn't really think about the new girl that night, not until the next morning when he took his spot on the bus and found himself wondering where he should leave his bag.

It's usual spot was in the seat beside him to keep away any stray freshman… except for yesterday when he forgot, unintentionally leaving the only available spot up for grabs for the new girl–Lucy–to take.

Natsu thought about it, and left the bag sitting beside him.

She probably wouldn't even ride the bus today.

The girl was a bit odd and quiet, but she was pretty. The blonde hair and big, brown eyes was perfect camouflage in a high-school setting. It wouldn't take her long to make friends, meaning Natsu could leave his backpack in the seat.

But, despite his own reasoning, he still found himself setting the bag to the floor when the bus pulled up to the last stop.

* * *

In his second period that morning, he decided that yesterday had to have been a fluke. While he had never been one for literature, it's possible that he'd been more encaptured by the poem itself than the girl's voice.

It would explain the multitude of tigers and flames that littered the pages of his sketchbook that night.

So, for the second time that week, Natsu raised his hand to request to see the counselor for a class change.

"Miss Heartfilia," the teacher started class by ignoring Natsu's raised hand and calling on the new student. "Since you did such a fantastic job for us yesterday, would you mind flipping to page 77 and reading the first poem there?"

Natsu watched as the girl quietly flipped to the correct page, took a deep breath, and began to read:

 _I wandered lonely as a cloud_

 _That floats on high o'er vales and hills,_

 _When all at once I saw a crowd,_

 _A host, of golden daffodils;_

 _Beside the lake, beneath the trees,_

 _Fluttering and dancing in the breeze._

 _Continuous as the stars that shine_

 _And twinkle on the milky way,_

 _They stretched in never-ending line_

 _Along the margin of a bay:_

 _Ten thousand saw I at a glance,_

 _Tossing their heads in sprightly dance._

Perhaps her voice was so enchanting because for once the words weren't just an endless drone. She made him envision the scene, so much so that his fingers itched for a paintbrush and a large, blank canvas to illustrate the words that she was bringing to life.

Lucy paused only long enough to take a breath before the next stanza, when the teacher raised his hand for her to wait.

"Mr. Dragneel?" the teacher cocked his head to the side as if he were waiting, and it was only then that Natsu realized he still had his hand half-raised.

Thinking fast, Natsu dropped his hand to his lap and sheepishly asked for the page number.

His eyes bored a hole in the mystery girl's back as she continued with the poem.

There was no way he was transferring out now.

* * *

He noticed song titles written on the front cover of her binder one morning, amidst numerous doodles and splatters of ink that matched the color of the ink on her skin.

"You like them?" He asked, the words leaving his mouth before he could really help it as he pointed to one song title in particular.

She looked over at him in surprise, perhaps because it's possible that was the first time she'd ever heard his voice.

"I've, uh," she paused, pressing her lips together, as if hesitant to answer. "I've never really listened to them before."

"Oh," Natsu frowned, slouching in the seat now as her words registered. "So, you just pretend to like them?" he tried, and failed, to keep the judgement out of his tone.

She shifted against the vinyl, hugging the binder to her chest now as if to shield the rest of it from him. "It's more like a list," she replied softly, speaking nowhere near as forcibly as she did in class when she was reading aloud. "A wish-list of songs I want to listen to. My father doesn't really approve of any music genre that isn't classical."

"Oh," Natsu repeated, biting his lip as the girl's words made him feel like an ass. "Well, if you've never really listened to them, then how do you know so many of their song titles?"

"Magazines," she answered, avoiding his eyes as she looked around the bus. Looking at anything and everything… anything that wasn't him.

Great, he'd hurt her feelings.

They didn't talk anymore on the way to her stop.

That night, after homework and staring down at his sketchbook for a half-hour with nothing to show for it, Natsu threw down his pencil and set to work making a tape with all his favorite songs that matched what he'd seen on Lucy's binder.

Once he was finished, he slipped the tape into his bag along with a pair of earphones before getting ready for bed.

* * *

Their first ever _real_ conversation came later on, when he noticed her watching him as he sketched in the mornings while they rode to school. Which, thank God the conversation came at all, because while Natsu was pretty content with keeping to himself, it felt so wrong sitting next to someone everyday and never speaking to them.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, watching as she picked at her already chipped nailpolish as she bobbed her head slightly to music playing through the earbud in her right ear.

Which, he should mention, sharing his earphones had become a part of their daily routine.

They'd never really talked about it after that one afternoon that he had unintentionally hurt her feelings, but she didn't seem to hold a grudge the next morning. However, seeing as how they never talked, Natsu supposed it'd be hard to tell if she really was mad.

He'd just silently slipped the earbud from his ear after she sat down and offered it to her, and for a split second he saw the way that she frowned at his offer. Natsu had felt his cheeks grow warm and almost retracted his hand to return the piece to his ear, to chalk his "thoughtful" gift up to a bust, but then she surprised him… as she always does.

She had accepted the earbud, and while she didn't say anything as she slipped the piece into her ear, her small smile was all the satisfaction Natsu had needed.

He'd been forgiven.

Now, however, she'd broken their unspoken rule. She was the one mixing things up and throwing him for a loop when she pointed to his sketchbook that was resting in his lap. He'd been messing around in it, trying to hurry and finish his half-assed assignment with a regular pencil since he wouldn't have time to finish it later before class.

Natsu swallowed hard when he saw her eyes follow his traces, his lines, and never had he felt so vulnerable. He hurried to flip the page to a new, clean sheet, but he was met with sketches from a past night that he couldn't really remember.

He flipped again, and again, and again…

 _Where were the clean sheets?_ He could have died from embarrassment as he unwillingly was showing this girl all of his work that had been previously been for his eyes only.

Then, the solution dawned on him.

He closed the sketchbook.

Natsu tensed as Lucy remained peering over his shoulder, however, as she now studied the paint splotches that littered the blank, black cover.

Finally, she spoke up, not quite meeting his eyes as she said, "Your pictures tell stories."

While it admittedly hadn't been the comment he'd been expecting, Natsu would be lying if he said he wasn't relieved she actually said something. The silence had began to unnerve him.

"M-maybe," he shrugged, tapping his fingers against the cover. "But they're just pictures… no words."

"Maybe I could help with that."

Again, not the answer he had been expecting. Natsu's fingers itched to turn up the Walkman's volume, to drown out the awkwardness of their current situation, but something held him back.

"W-what do you mean?"

Lucy held up her hands, gesturing to the ink-stains that might as well be tattoos since they were ever present on her skin.

"I'm sort of a wannabe writer," she grinned, as if sheepish to admit it. "One with access to her mother's crabby old typewriter that hates me."

Well, that would explain the ink.

"But, I could give your sketches words… you know, if you wanted."

Natsu cocked his head to the side, finally drawing his eyes to the girl's face. "Then they'd be more like comics, wouldn't they?"

It was Lucy's turn to shrug as she lowered her chin, as if saying the words aloud hadn't sounded as great as they did in her head. "I dunno," she mumbled, "but, it could be fun?"

It dawned on Natsu then, as obvious as it should have already been. Lucy was still sitting beside him, despite the fact they were four weeks into the semester already. He'd been sitting here wondering why she didn't move, never sought out a new seat.

Forever questioning why she was sitting beside him.

But maybe the answer wasn't as complicated as he was making it.

Maybe, as shitty as the truth may be, she saw him as her only friend.

Damn. He owed this girl more than just one tape.

"Comics," he said, grinning and praying that it didn't look like a grimace. "Y-yeah. Who knows? It could be fun." He hesitantly flipped his sketchbook open, frowning when it opened directly to a crisp, clean, blank page.

* * *

 **until next time...**


End file.
